


An Aviary Of Iron

by Clarybell90



Category: Original Work
Genre: DnD feel?, Everyone is kinda an asshole, Fae Magic, Fae and Human Fighting, Fae and Human Romance, Fantasy, For once I don't constantly hurt my characters, Hunters, I love writing the gay, Just enjoy my self indulgent drivel, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Moral Ambiguity, Rival Kingdoms, The human has a type of magic, The prince is done with everyone's shit, Wings, mirror twins, no one is nice, spells, whatever you call that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 17:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18899173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarybell90/pseuds/Clarybell90
Summary: "You're a hunter. You can follow her magic, if you know mine," Amir explains, sitting himself next to Sol. The swelling of his being nearly rocks Sol backwards. He's never been this close to a magic user so strong."I....," Sol starts, "I can't. I don't use my ability.""Then I suppose I'll just let Davit kill you."Davit smiles at Sol.





	An Aviary Of Iron

From the beginning of time magic buzzed through the world. A deep seeded vibration that flickered in and out of everyone and everything. The very creation of life and emotion comes from the depths of this pool. Swirling and bright, yet invisible to most creatures. Like a signal that most lost, some found, and only a select few were born with. Only when a creature pulled on the magic did it become tangible. Something that could be traced back to the user, to who it belonged.

Sol is very quickly tiring of being tugged towards complete strangers by this buzz. He weaves through the crowded streets, pointedly going the opposite direction to where the magic is calling. He doesn't need the trouble a witch would bring, thank you very much. Sol would much rather spend the next few days getting blackout drunk, and then ditching this town. As if slipping away would be possible. Not with the bounty on his head though.

Grumbling quietly, Sol shifts deeper into the city. The Capital always has been a wasp nest waiting to be cracked open. Filled with normal humans, witches and fae were declared illegal nearly five years ago. Naturally some magic user would eventually get tired and decide to rock this place to the core. Sol just wishes it didn't have to be when he was here.

Then a second signal pops into existence, perfectly in the direction Sol is turned towards. Without even thinking, he heads towards it. A moth to a flame. At least, for less than a moment. Sol jerks himself out of the current, and tries to calm the buzzing in his bones.

It doesn't work of course. It never works. From the day Sol was born he was able to find magic. Able to hunt down it's users. His parents used that to their advantage, getting money from trappers and slavers for helping them on their trail. That same job also got them brutally murdered.

Sol isn't interested in following in their footsteps. Yet here he is, trapped between two enormous vacuums of magic. Two focal points that he knows, even unconsciously, he'll follow. No one ever said abilities such as his were safe for their owners after all. Their very souls called to what they themselves can't possibly hope to control. Sol watched his parents constantly go back for the hunt. For the chance to be near a being of such power, even for a moment. That curiosity ended only in death.

Forcing himself to follow the flow deeper into the city, even as his body tries to protest, Sol lets the crowds draw him away from the magic users. Yet, as if Sol was the magnet and not them, the two points go deeper as well. Converging. Closing in on the center. The royal family's palace.

No sooner does Sol realize this does he feel a deep rumble. Then another. Magic forming, being pushed to a specific place. A particular form. A spell, and a damn powerful one at that.

Sol staggers as another wave of rumblings hits. Dragging himself into a back alleyway, he braces himself against a wall as more of the buzzing magic is drawn farther into the epicenter of the magic. Heart pounding, Sol tries to force himself to stay still. To not follow the bright little streams flowing through his soul.

He tries, and he fails. Ears roaring, he starts stumbling towards one of those black holes. Ebbing in and out of the magic, slipping between the rivers now forming into pools, Sol does manage to make himself take the long way. Forces himself to circle round, to get behind the creature. Still, ever step closer manages to make his heart sink deeper into his stomach.

Something in this spell, it's _wrong_. Twisted in a way that Sol has never seen before. So achingly powerful, yet also deeply entwined with a special brand of blackness that only magic can form. Animals feel it, spooking and quivering the closer Sol gets to the source. Yet the only human who feels it is Sol, and he wishes he couldn't.

Sol doesn't even realize the release was coming until it exploded outwards. Magic bounces throughout the city, attaching to anything and everything. Sol staggers, nearly hitting the ground as suddenly all the pressure is gone. For a painfully long minute nothing stirs, no one acknowledges what just happened.

Then the screaming starts.

The whole town erupts into chaos. Horses break free from carriages, shadows spring away from their owners, food rots in instants, and objects start moving. Coming to life.

It only takes a few more minutes for people to start dropping. For dead to start appearing in the streets. Panic washes away all but instinct as Sol bolts through streets, desperately avoiding walking houses and crazed dogs. The smell of rot permeates everything.

Sol doesn't even realize he's reached his goal until he finds the single place where magic is stripped away. The epicenter. The place where the two points converged, blending together into a deep black hole of _power_. The two responsible are clear as day to him.

One leans against a cart, face barely visible under a single cloak. Something shimmers along their shoulder, but disperses as he shifts. The second also wears a hood, but something about them is sharp. Too perfectly sculpted for anything human. Yet they too fall into normalcy in less than a moment. A trick of the light, Sol's brain tells him. But he knows better. They have glamours, and powerful ones at that.

Sol comes to a screeching halt before them. His mind goes blank as two pairs of eyes zone in on him, even as the city continues to fall apart behind him. Adrenaline rushes through Sol, but nothing behind those gazes register. Frozen, yet ready to bolt. A rabbit in the underbrush with a hungry fox just a few feet away.

Then the guard start yelling, and a different kind of fear washes over Sol. While his kind might be able to hunt down a magic user, they could also identify another hunter just by the way magic flows around them. The slaves the guard keep would rat him out in a second in hopes they would be released. An eye for an eye. A hunter for a hunter.

Barely daring to think, Sol darts forward. Surprising both himself and the magic users, he grabs onto the sharper one's cloak. They have a knife out in seconds, but no magic starts bubbling forth from the black hole that is their soul. They know such a display will only get more people converging on them.

"Take me with you," Sol gasps, "Take me with you and out of this city or I swear to the gods the last thing I do will be making sure the guard get to you. Magic damn me, I'll make sure you're caught."

The declaration falls between them, the whole world silent for a teetering minute. Then a single smile slips onto the face of the shimmering one.

"Fine then Hunter. I hope you aren't afraid of death, because the moment that curse falls through I'm ripping you to shreds," They chirp, teeth sharp.

Sol didn't even realize he had said a curse, but he thanks his lucky stars that he did. Green eyes flashing, he nods. Sol will run before they can take the chance to kill him anyways.

* * *

Sol didn't run, and the two he now travels with didn't kill him. The sharp one had muttered something about him being useful, around the same time the shiny one had wrapped a hand around Sol's throat. That's all he said in fact, but the other one listened. Sol isn't sure if he should be thankful, or if he should be dreading the future.

Dragging another log into place, Sol finally has enough to build a fire. The two fae, they have to be fae to have magic like that, slipped into the woods a few hours ago. Darkness isn't what scares Sol, but the cold. Midwinter isn't a good time to be sitting outside and alone with no source of warmth. Thus, the fire he is now desperately trying to light.

Trying being the key word. Sol never was the best at roughing it in the woods, and the sudden flee from the city had left him without many of his possessions. Some flint and steel was among these items.

Cursing lightly, Sol once again tries to build enough friction for the wood to start smoldering. Two seconds later the wood erupts into green flame. Yelping rather loudly, Sol tosses the piece from his lap into the pile of logs. Instantly the rest catch. Sol's finger's are burned.

Half a look upwards reveals why. The green flame illuminates him in a way that sends harsh shadows across his face, but the features of a fae are unmistakable. Strange, almost grey, skin and long hair darker than a raven's feathers. A pair of shimmering wings fall down his back and nearly brush the ground. His mouth is pulled into a sharp toothed grin, light dancing across the blackness of his eyes.

"Really Hunter, it's not that hard to light a fire. All it takes is a little spark," He says, looking to all the world like he's love nothing more than to eat Sol alive.

"But even the brightest of blazes can be extinguished," Sol shoots back before he thinks too much on it. He freezes, but the fae's smile only gets bigger. He's enjoying this.

"What is your name, Hunter."

"You can call me Sol. My name is lost. Sorry for the disappointment."

The faery tilts his head slightly, like a hound contemplating just how it wants to rip something to shreds. A shudder goes up Sol's spine, but he forces himself to start tossing extra wood into the green flames. Heat licks at his face, both inside and out. Sol is an idiot, and he knows it.

"Then you call me Davit, Hunter. If you take on a magic name, I'll take a magicless one."

Sol glances up, then grins, "If you say so, Davit. Hope you know that's the name of a male prostitute that I used to know."

Davit falls eerily still. His eyes burn holes into Sol's chest, then spread deeper. His lungs feel as if they're on fire, and Sol is suddenly very aware of how all the magic in the air seeps to the fae across from him. How it forms so tightly against Davit that he feels like a deep sucking void of magic. How little he is compared to that.

But then Davit tips his head back, and he laughs. The sound is melodious, sending soft little tingles down Sol's spine. The trees seem to lean in closer, edging in on the fae for a long moment before shifting back to normal. Davit lowers himself to the ground, shifting his wings to a better position for sitting. Sol has to force himself to look away from those shifting appendages, both feathered and not. Real and not. Impossible like most fae are.

"My princess ordered me to listen to her brother until she is saved. He said not to kill you yet. So, Sol, You're officially the luckiest hunter in the land," Davit says, stretching lazily towards the flames. His legs slip into the fire, only for the green inferno to jump over his limbs, unable to hurt the one that created them.

"Her brother?"

"Davit is speaking of me," A voice says from behind Sol, nearly making the hunter jump out of his skin. Davit laughs again, this one sounding more malicious than melodic.

The second fae materializes from the tree line. Pale pointed ears and pointed nails. Sharp features sit on an otherworldly handsome face, piercing yellow eyes falling onto Sol. Both Sol and the fae have short brown hair, but where the Sol's looks at best mousy, the fae's is the deepest colors of the earth. Gorgeous in a way that takes the breath away.

It doesn't take a genius to realize both fae before Sol are of a different court. Both unseelie and seelie roam the lands, but they hardly ever mix. Never mind take orders from one another.

"My sister and I are mirrors. Twins," The fae says, as if sensing Sol's confusion, "The only thing uniting our courts."

Sol stares up at him for a long minute before even realizing what that means. Amir and Rima. The aliases of the royal fae's newest, and most powerful, children. Sol still remembers his mother talking about the day the twins were born. How half the hunters in the world were drawn in and lost. Mirror's are always more powerful in magic than most. His parents were only lucky distance was there to save them.

And the king had just announced the greatest capture of unseelie in human history. Among them had been their princess. Rima.

Amir nods at Sol's understanding, "We can use you to find her."

"What?"  


"You're a hunter. You can follow her magic, if you know mine," Amir explains, sitting himself next to Sol. The swelling of his being nearly rocks Sol backwards. He's never been this close to a magic user so strong.

"I....," Sol starts, "I can't. I don't use my ability."

"Then I suppose I'll just let Davit kill you."

Davit smiles at Sol.

"Never mind. I'll try."

"I thought so."

* * *

A single hand sweeps down Sol's back, jerking him out of the hunt.

Gasping, Sol falls backwards into waiting arms. Exhaustion seeps into his bones. The past day had been a blur, nothing but latching onto a trail and following it. He doesn't know when darkness fell. He doesn't know when his jacket was lost, nor when the bloody gash in his arm appeared. All Sol knows is he was _so close_.

Davit tilts his head at Sol as he tries to push out of his arms. His skin feels warm against Sol's chilled body, but Sol still shoves against the fae. Davit just adjusts his grip and pulls Sol tighter against him.

"I'm supposed to keep you alive, little hunter. How am I to do that if you push yourself past your limit?" Davit asks.

Glaring, Sol continues to squirm against the fae's grip. He could feel it. They're almost to their goal. He can tell.

Shifting Sol up and over his shoulder, Davit carries the human back several feet to a camp Amir is already setting up. The prince looks up as Sol is settled onto the ground. Davit lets him try to run back off towards his hunt, only for Sol to crumple to the dirt. Both faeries snort as the human is finally overcome by his body's need for rest.

"We're almost there," Sol grumbles, barely able to keep his eyes open. Three days of repeating the same routine, and yet he could still feel the rush of the hunt through his blood. No wonder his parents had given in to temptation. It was impossible to stop, and so wonderfully exhilarating that he didn't want to.

Hands run down Sol's prone body, tingling with magic. Shivering, Sol feels as all his small wounds are healed. The gash in his arm remains, needing to be washed before being closed again. Now that the adrenaline is slowly wearing off Sol can feel it throb. He still can't for the life of him remember how he had gotten it.

"If we're almost there, then you should have no problem getting us there tomorrow," Davit hums, pulling out a small flask. The smell of alcohol fills the area. Amir scrunches his nose, going back to preparing a fire, and Sol tries to squirm away.

The cut burns as it's cleaned, the alcohol slipping down it and into the dirt below. Sol bites the inside of his cheek as Davit works, refusing to make a sound. Allies they may be, but the unseelie still continues to take some measure of joy in hurting Sol.

The warm buzzing hands return soon after, carefully sealing off the jagged edges of broken flesh. Sol relaxes under the feeling, eyes finally fluttering shut. He barely registers being moved closer to the fire, just that he's now warm. One of the fae starts humming, and Sol drifts off under the gentle embrace of a song long forgotten by human ears.

* * *

Sol wakes up to two black voids staring down at him from above. Yelping slightly, Sol jerks upwards and nearly hits Davit in the process. Heart pounding, Sol attempts to send the vilest look he can muster at Davit. The fae doesn't look impressed.

"What do you want?" Sol asks.

"To talk."

"You woke me up to talk?"

"Technically you woke yourself, but yes. Amir is gone, so I can finally ask you some questions," Davit shrugs, his wings shifting as he leans a chin against his knees. The whole position is vaguely childish, but Sol's eyes are naturally drawn to those moving appendages. His fingers ache to touch them.

Instead Sol forces himself to cross his legs, pointedly looking away from Davit in a quest for some food. His stomach growls greedily as Sol's hands find a bowl of berries left nearby. A trade between them, Amir had called it. Food and relative protection in exchange for his work. They couldn't just let Sol die after all.

Still refusing to look at the fae beside him, Sol stuffs as many berries in his mouth as he can and chews like his life depends on it. The slight shake in his hands lessens and the shivering cold starts to settle down as the food settles into his stomach.

Finally he speaks, "And what is in it for me?"

"You get to touch my wings."

Sol freezes, another berry halfway to his mouth. Unwillingly, daringly, Sol's eyes dart back to those shiny limbs. Once again his fingers itch.

"Do you think I don't notice you eyeing them?" Davit quirks an eyebrow, "Do you think I'm an idiot?"  


"No!" Sol says a little too fast, too loud, then corrects himself, "No. I don't think you're stupid. I just never expected you to offer."

"I'm not offering. I'm trading. Making a deal. Now will you take it or not?"

Sol pauses for a long moment, turning his options around in his head. Finding what loopholes he can, Sol quickly decides to patch them up.

"You can't ask me for anything but words and truth. Ask as many as you'd like, but I have the right to refuse a question. Deal?"  


"Deal," Davit grins, sharp teeth flashing in the low light of the fire. Sol can't help but feel like he just made a pact with the dark gods, but he forces himself to swallow and face the fae.

Davit's head is tilted, still a vaguely dog like expression. Unwittingly Sol finds himself thinking of the dogs that used to run around his childhood home. How they would look at his mother in confusion as she called them over with a sweet voice, not quite understanding what she was saying. Davit's face says much the same, like he can't wrap his mind around Sol. Sol supposes that's why he wants to ask a question in the first place.

"Why did you want out of the city?"

"The guard keeps hunters as slaves, easy way to make sure magic stays out of it. I didn't feel like becoming one," Sol answers easily, bringing another berry to his lips. Davit nods like he expected that.

"You'd never used your ability before?"

"I wouldn't say ne-"

"You said you don't," Davit interrupts, "What kind of hunter never uses their ability."

A sour feeling fills Sol's stomach. His mother's face flashes through his head again, twisted in pain even in death. He'd never found his father, but finding his mother was enough.

"Because some hunters get burned."

Davit's wings twitch in obvious interest as he absorbs this information. His head tilts even farther, an unasked question obviously on the edge of his tongue. Yet he remains silent. Finally he spreads those wings.

It's hard for Sol to hold back the gasp of awe from watching the delicate limbs carefully unfold. The only bright thing on Davit's body, they reflect the light in ways Sol can't understand. Scales longer than his hand overlap on top one another, each nearly completely translucent, forming the shape of a butterfly's wings. Feathers but not. Each section shifts of it's own accord, properly settling until the scales are nearly invisible against one another. How one flies with them, Sol has no idea.

"Make this quick," Davit snips, obviously not liking his sensitive wings exposed like this. Pausing for just a moment longer, Sol shifts forward.

His legs still aren't steady enough to hold him so instead Sol scoots towards Davit on his knees. Leaning over the fae just a little, Sol's chest brushing against Davit's shoulder, Sol reaches a single hand forwards.

Silk, fur, water, ice. Touching the wings feel like all of them, and yet none of them at once. All Sol can use to describe them are smooth. Smoother than anything man could make. The sensation sends tingles down Sol's arm.

Apparently it also sends tingles down Davit's back. Sol feels the shudder in his chest where they touch. Unconsciously he glances at Davit, and Sol finds himself looking straight into the fae's eyes. Their faces are so close together, if Sol would just tilt a little forward.... Heat rushes into Sol's head.

Davit clears his throat, glancing away first. "You should get some more rest."

Numbly Sol nods, shifting backwards a bit to put some distance between them. His hand still tingles.

* * *

The aviary, as Sol had overheard the guards call it, was nothing close to an actual aviary. A better word would be a giant bird cage, without a single crack out to the sun. The metal structure towers over the trees, nestled against a mountain. A single door sits on it, only kept closed by a single bar in front of the door. Only that keeps the power Sol hunts contained.

Only the hands on his shoulders keeps Sol from darting forward and into the light. From trying to reach his quarry. To get closer to the magic that draws him in.

"Soon," Davit whispers into his ear, nails digging into his shoulders, "You'll find her soon."

Soon wasn't good enough, but the frenzy is officially broken. Falling slack into Davit's arms, Sol watches the aviary with hungry eyes. Five days of hunting, five days of running and searching for hours, and he can finally see the end.

Shuddering, Sol lets Davit lead him back into the trees. Away from that thread of magic that Sol already can feel slipping from his grip. The exhaustion has only been growing with each time Sol goes into the hunt. Already Davit has to completely pick him up and carry him.

Amir is pacing through the trees, shifting in and out of the wood as he walks. Sol watches him for a few moments before letting his head fall back onto Davit's chest.

"We're here," He croaks, eyes heavy.

"I know we're here," Amir snaps, "And we have no way of getting in."

"Why not?"

"It's made of iron."  


The declaration has Sol blinking. Iron. One of the rarest metals in the world, the fae making sure none can be easily made, and they made a prison larger than anything Sol had ever seen before.

"It's just a bar."

"A bar we can't touch. A building we can barely approach without weakening our magic. A cage made just for fae," Amir snarls. Davit's grip on Sol tightens, warning him not to say anything else. The trees bend and twist as Amir continues to pace.

"I'll do it then."

Both fae still at Sol's declaration.

"The guards would kill you in an instant."

"Then protect me," Sol shoots back, too tired to properly argue, "You have magic. Use it."

Amir goes to snap something at him, but then he makes eye contact with Davit. They stare at each other for a long time, seemingly exchanging words just through looks. Finally Amir deflates, running a hand through his hair.

"Fine," He says, "Tomorrow morning. You will free them."

Sol just nods, already letting his eyes fall shut.

* * *

If Sol thought what they'd done in the city was powerful, he quickly learned just how wrong he was. The rumblings nearly send him off his feet as he bolts for the aviary. It takes effort to not fall back into the hunt. To not go into a frenzy and focus on that single point of magic.

Guards scream as Davit and Amir rip into them. This is no fun little play of chaos, this is _meant_ to kill. The power of a prince and an unseelie combined. It's enough to suck all the magic from the air, from the grass, from Sol himself.

Barely diving around a thrown spear, Sol continues to sprint straight for that metal door. The closer he gets, the less guard he runs into. None wanted to ever approach the cage, and now Sol can tell why. The iron never stopped the fae from gathering magic, but it did keep them from releasing it. Even a normal human would be able to feel the buzz in the air. A wasp nest just waiting to be cracked open.

Jerking to a halt, Sol starts pulling. The bar is heavy, maybe fifty pounds, and the metal wasn't made to be smooth. Shallow cuts start forming along his hands as he yanks the rough iron off the door.

The bar lands with a thud, yet still nothing happens. Breathing heavily, Sol carefully grabs the door. Blood smears along it as he shoves it open in one fowl swoop.

Hundreds of eyes peer out from the darkness inside. Yet Sol is drawn to one pair alone, the same ones connected to the magic he's been hunting for days. Yellow, just like her brother's.

"Be free," Sol says, still staring at Rima, "I opened the door. Be free."

The fae barely wait on him to step out of the way before they swarm through the entrance. Finally the name makes sense as hundreds of bodies fly out of the door. Each of them unseelie, and all of them winged.

All except for one, that is. Rima steps out last, eyes still on Sol. Every inch of her is the opposite of her brother. The eyes are the only thing still the same. Mirrors indeed.

"Hunter."

"Princess."

There's a long pause, a moment of consideration. She tilts her head, much like Davit does. The reminder of the other fae send's Sol's heart skipping.

"You won't be allowed back into the human lands," Rima hums, still watching her from a tilted angle, "Nor will many fae want a hunter in our homes. Why go this final step? Why be the one to open the door?"

Unconsciously Sol glances back towards the forest, where he had left Davit. He still remembers how the fae's hand had brushed against his moments before Sol had started his run. Still can feel the heat of it. Remembers just how close their lips had been to touching two nights ago.

Rima follows his gaze. Her confusion falls away into sudden understanding. "So he's the one who claimed you?"

"Claimed?"

Rima just sends him a small, closed lip smile. Sol can't help but feel like a small child who doesn't quite understand what's going on. He's not sure he likes it.

"Then you have my blessing. No unseelie shall harm you."

Sol more feels the magic than can tell what the spell was. Yet a fae can't lie. Maybe that's what she put over him. A ward of protection, formed by her own word. Yet before Sol can ask, Rima rushes off. Following her with his eyes, he watches as the princess launches herself at her brother. Unseelie and seelie, clashing in every way, yet perfect together. Mirror twins.

Hands rub down Sol's shoulders before he realizes that Davit had moved. Twisting to look at the fae, Sol once again finds the other's face mere inches from his. Heat rushes to Sol's cheeks as he looks up at Davit.

"Sol."

"Yes?"

Davit closes the distance between them, their lips meeting with a featherlight brush, hesitant.

Sol reaches up and grabs onto Davit's shoulders, still bloody fingers touching those delicate wings. Davit shudders, and then Sol pulls him even farther forward. Their lips meet in a proper crash, and just like that Davit's control breaks.

Picking Sol up, he nips at the other even as Sol reciprocates. Their kiss is a flash of teeth, a proper battle that neither of them can win. That neither wants to win. Sol's hands properly delve into those wonderful wings, relishing in the broken off noise Davit makes in response.

When the finally break off Sol understands what Rima meant when she said 'claimed'. Sending Davit a grin that spells only trouble, he goes back in for another clash of lips. Davit doesn't hesitate to return it.

And somewhere, deep inside Sol, a single directive shifts. His old hunt is over, and a new one has started. This one following a certain fae with black eyes and shining wings.


End file.
